Lessons
by allthingsnerd
Summary: In which SG-1 meets a street kid.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Just a little idea that popped into my head. I'm not a street kid, nor do I know any street kids, nor do I know anything about living on the streets. I'm going to try though. Any help or knowledge you can give is appreciated.**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate: SG-1**

"They ain't gonna talk to you, ya know."

Daniel spun around to see a young woman in baggy clothes and a backpack perched on a dumpster in the alleyway.

"What makes you say that?"

"They're street kids, they don't trust you."

"Why not?"

She smirked. "You a cop?"

"Nope."

"Military then."

"Not military either."

"Why you dressed like it then?"

"I work with the Air Force, but I'm a civilian."

"Whatever Military." She got up and turned to leave.

"Wait!"

She turned and stared at Daniel. "What?"

"I'm looking for someone. Tall, blonde, male. He's very sick. And a danger. Have you seen him?"

"He your friend?"

"Sort of. Not really. Frenemy?" He shrugged.

She snorted. "And what makes you think street kids know where he's at?"

"He's hiding. You're probably good at hiding. Can you help?"

The young woman stared at him in a measuring sort of way. After a long while she said, "Yeah, I seen him. What's in it for me?"

Daniel smiled and reached for his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. He held it up. Her gaze flickered from him to the money and back to him again. Finally she sighed and walked by him, plucking the money from his fingers.

"This way, Military. Bring those friends you're hiding."

_**Constructive criticism is appreciated!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable. **

Jessica was observant. She had to be. What with cameras and cops, it was very easy to get caught while trying to feed yourself and find a place to stay for the night. So being careful and observant was a way of life for a street kid. It was survival.

She also liked to name people. When you give them names, you are in control. You don't get attached to real names, real people, and real lives. Attachments are bad, fake names are good.

Military had three friends: Perky, Big guy, and Kansas. And they were annoying! Well, Military and Perky were, Kansas looked like he just wanted to get the job done and Big guy was eerily quiet. What? She could have a vocabulary!

She paused. "One rule Military. No personal information."

"Pardon?"

"It means, don't gimme your names and don't ask me questions. I don' care an' I ain't answerin' Got it?"

"Tou-chy. What are we supposed to call you then?"

"Don' care, Perky. No questions." Honestly, you'd think they'd listen, bein' military and all.

The four abruptly stopped. "Perky?"

Kansas chuckled, "It suits you. What do you think, Military?" He drug out the last word.

Great. Kansas is cocky. She didn't need cocky. Well, to be honest, she didn't need this. Except the cash. She always needed the cash.

"Come on Ca-. Wait a minute. What are we supposed to call each other if you don't want names?"

She stopped, took a deep breath and turned. Then, pointing to each member of the group in succession, she said, "Kansas. Perky. Military. Big guy. Can we go now?" She was getting really annoyed now.

The four, Team Annoying or T.A. for short, shrugged and started to follow her again. She led them through the city of Colorado Springs and out a ways. Their "frenemy" as Military had called him, was hiding in an abandoned, broken down barn just outside of city limits. It was surrounded by trees, and unless you knew it was there, you'd never find it.

She stopped the group before they entered hearing range of the building.

"Your guy's in there. He don't let nobody in 'less he knows 'em and they got food. 'm pretty sure he's got some weird gun too. Good luck."

"Hold on," Kansas grabbed her arm, "can you get the gun away? Distract him?"

She stared at the man for a minute, "What do I get out of it? I could get hurt ya know."

"Perhaps the satisfaction that you have done the right thing by helping a man's life and a society where he would be a danger to all?"

Was this big guy for real? She gave them an incredulous look. Military pulled out his wallet and another twenty.

She grabbed it, "Got any food on ya? He won't let me in without food."

"No. Sorry."

She sighed and dug into her backpack, pulling out an apple. "You owe me an apple Kansas. And I collect."

She walked over to the door, "I'll give him the food and grab the gun. You come in right after. Nothin' 'bout no signals or weird military crap. I just wanna get this done and go 'fore the soup kitchen closes. Got it?"

When the four nodded, she opened the door carefully.

"Hey Blondie! Got a fresh apple for ya! 'S an extra if ya want."

"Bring it here."

"Wow, Blondie. Your voice is real raspy today. You sure you okay? I can help you get to the free clinic if ya want?" She walked up to his prone figure.

"No! No. Just food and privacy, girl. That's all I need."

"Alright. Here ya go."

She handed him the apple, and when he was thoroughly distracted, picked up the weird-looking gun. T.A. rushed in.

"Thanks kid. We have to secure the place and call back-up. You should get out of here."

"No arguments from me, Kansas. 'Member though, you still owe me an apple."

"Sure thing kid."

Jessica handed the gun to Big Guy and left then, to make her way back to town. She lost precious food that she couldn't afford to lose and needed to get back before all the good sleeping spots were taken for the night. She _hated_ helping people.

_**AN: Well! This is fun! Don't worry, it's not over yet! Cam still owes us an apple! And do you really think kind-hearted Daniel will leave his new friend alone? I can see a lot of questions and a very annoyed street kid in the future, can you?**_

_**Also, this will come in later, but Jessica is 21-ish. Perky is Vala, Military is Daniel, Big Guy is Teal'c, and Kansas is Cam. **_

_**As always, constructive criticism is appreciated!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: I put this in chapter two but I'll say it again, Jessica is 21-ish. Perky is Vala, Military is Daniel, Big Guy is Teal'c, and Kansas is Cam. Hope that clears things up a bit. **_

**Disclaimer: SG-1 is not mine.**

I love farmer's markets. Everyone does, really. The out-of-towners and tourists love it cause of all the fresh fruit Colorado Springs has to offer. The soldiers that live 'round here love it cause they live on cafeteria food and MRE's and are excited about maybe, just maybe having something good to eat for once. The stay-at-home moms and all the little grandmas love it because that means pies and jams and all sorts of fresh and fruity yummies. The teen girls and young women love it because all the handsome soldiers come out of their mountain and teen boys and young men love it because all the young women are out and about. It's all very domino-like, really. The little kids love it cause of all the toys and rides and prizes and things. The street rats love it because well, this is the best time of the year for us.

Time was, we'd all fight over territory and stuff, who got to do what and where, but we realized that that wasn't the way to go about things. So every farmer's market, we team up and share the spoils. We all have our own specialties. Mine's the fruit stands.

It's quite simple, actually. First, you find a disposable camera. Disposable because the tourist you pickpocket will notice if a nice camera is missing and then cause a fuss. And you don't want a fuss – it's all about blending in. Then you walk around, pretending to be a tourist, all while pocketing fruit – all one kind of course. Once you have enough fruit, you put it all in a basket and walk around, pretending to sell your fruit to raise money for your family's farm. It's easiest when you are a little kid, or you've got little kids with you, which is why I always pick the cutest kids to come with me. Everyone's a sucker for a little kid. But they've got to look a little bit like you in order to sell the whole "family" thing. That's pretty easy though.

So once you've got the kids with you, you wash 'em up and stick 'em in some nice clothing. That's easy too, cause all the tourists are stupid enough to leave luggage in a public enough area for a long enough period of time for you to grab something. And once you're all spruced up – it's easy as pie.

So that's where I am today. I've got a couple of kids with me – Meatball, this little boy who's about ten who loves to roll around in the mud, Beanpole, a twelve-year-old girl who disappears when she turns sideways, and Greta, Beanpole's three-year-old sister. We all got our baskets and fruit, peaches this year, and we are raking in the cash. Tourists are all a bit stupid, but I ain't complaining, it puts food in the mouth and someone's gotta look after these kids.

This year though, was not my favorite farmer's market. Why? Because, of course, I had to run into Team Annoying. Well, Military, to be more precise. Why me? And here's how it happened…

We walked up to a man from behind. Tall, brown hair, and in tourist-like clothing. I tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me sir, but would you like a peach? Fresh off our family's farm! 75 cents apiece and a dollar for the big ones! Oh. It's you. Well, never mind then!"

"Hey! It's you, kid, person… I don't really know what to call you. And I never introduced myself. I'm-"

I interrupted, "Don't wanna know. Bye!"

"Why not?"

"Don' care." He started following us. I figured he wouldn't leave me alone for a little while so I sent the others off to continue, might as well get some revenue. Sides, they'd get more business anyway. They're cute and I'm older.

"What am I supposed to call you?"

"Don' care about that either. Excuse me ma'am, would you like a peach? Freshly picked!" She wants one! Score one for the Jess!

Military looked kinda strained during my little business exchange and when she walked away he offered to play a little game with me.

"What kinda game? As you can see, I'm working here."

"How about this, I ask questions and for every question you answer truthfully, I give you a dollar."

I snorted, "I don't like questions. Sides, what's stoppin' me from lyin'? I'm good at it, ya know."

"Well, two reasons: One, I'm very good at detecting a lie and Two, if I even suspect you of lying, you don't get the dollar. You also have the right to not answer a question if you want."

I considered him for a minute, "Well, 'S your money to waste. I gotta rule too. I'll answer what I feel like answerin' but when it's time for you ta leave cause I wanna be alone, you gotta leave without a fuss. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Then ask away."

"All right, first things first. What's your name? You don't have to give me a last name. Just something to call you."

Of course that would be his first question. Whatever, my name for a dollar. I can deal with that. "Jessica."

"Jessica. All right. One dollar. What are you doing here?"

Did he seriously just ask me that? Well, he already knows the answer, easy dollar. "Scamming people," I say in a very obvious tone.

He looked taken a back, I don't think he expected me to be so blunt on that one.

"Where are you from?"

"Pass."

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah, over there."

"No, I mean, are you going somewhere? Is Colorado Springs just a stopping point?"

What made him ask that? How'd he know I wasn't from around here?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Pass. And times up."

"Already?"

"I don't like personal information. Or questions. And you're annoying."

"Just one more."

I paused, waiting for the question.

"How old are you?"

Aaaaaand I officially hate this year's farmer's market. "21. Can you go now?"

"Sure. Here's the money for answering my questions. See you around Jessica."

Oh, I certainly hope not. He'd handed me a five. Huh, I thought I'd only answered four questions to his liking. Whatever, like I said before, his money to waste.

At the end of the day, my little group had raked in a good amount of money. And we had eleven peaches left over. I took two peaches and one-fourth of the cash and let the others have the rest. I knew none of the other kids would mess with their spoils cause they all fear what I'd do if they picked on them. But that's a story for another time.

_**AN: Okay, I'm really loving writing this… **_

_**Constructive criticism appreciated!**_


End file.
